


More Than The Sun

by supernaturalie



Series: More Than The Sun [1]
Category: Scandal (TV)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fitzgerald Grant - Freeform, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Olitz, Olivia Pope - Freeform, Olivia/Fitz - Freeform, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 03:48:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3554966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernaturalie/pseuds/supernaturalie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little Olitz moment I somehow found my way into writing. Feel free to comment/submit suggestions through my Tumblr ask @supernaturalie! :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than The Sun

Fitzgerald Grant stood, leaning against the desk in the oval office, watching Olivia with a longing expression. She hadn't looked him in the eye since she'd walked in, holding her phone in one hand and her handbag in the other. Helen of Troy, Tom had called her, 'The face that launched a thousand ships.' He couldn't have been more right. But she didn't need an army for battle.

No, Olivia Pope was an army of her own, and every time she refused to meet his eye, he knew it was only self-preservation in action. They were blind when they saw each other - blind to the world around them. The millions of people depending on them both, the army of gladiators that followed her endlessly and without question; they were drowned out. All that the President of the United States heard when Olivia Pope locked her eyes with his were shallow breaths that made him lose his train of thought and a voice that seemed to wash over him and take with it all of his worries. America could not afford for its commander and chief to be so wholly drawn in by, and so drowned in love and admiration for one woman. And she knew it. But even without her gentle brown eyes staring up at him, the world fell away from his mind. It could rot, for all he cared, as long as he could hold her in his arms and taste her lips on his.

"Olivia, look at me," he said softly. Olivia held firm. _Don't do it, Liv. Don't you dare give in to him._ She couldn't, not when everything hung in the balance. She couldn't drop everything and be the woman he wanted, even if that woman was all she'd ever wanted to be. He wanted Olivia Pope - protector of the weak, gladiator for those who could not fight, healer of the broken, and on top of it all, lover of the most difficult man in the world. If only she could bear it all. No matter how many times she told Jake that she wanted to stand in the sun with him, she would never choose the sun over being that woman. It was her life; it was her sun. And yet the idea of spending a life with Fitz, making jam and raising babies - if that was standing in the sun, she would desert her life in a heartbeat. Vermont was just a dream, but she couldn't escape it. That's why she couldn't give in to him - because dreams were meant to be broken, and she just wouldn't survive another broken dream.

"Olivia," he said, more firmly this time. "Look. At. Me."

They had this level of control over each other that nobody from the outside could ever understand. Just the mere sound of his voice made her shiver. She stared intently at her feet, not daring to look up. If she looked into his eyes, it would all be over. She heard his footsteps, heard his breath becoming nearer. Large, black, perfectly shined shoes stood toe to toe with her, and she could feel the warmth radiating off his chest. A hand came up to slip beneath the tresses of her hair that concealed her face and gently forced her to meet his eyes. She couldn't handle it anymore. She broke her concentration, looking up only to be captured by the stormy blue of his eyes. He looked at her in a way that made her heart flutter and her stomach clench. It made her warm from the inside out.

"Fitz, I-" She began, only to be cut off by a chaste kiss. "Fitz-" And again, but this time, he let himself linger, teasing her with swipes of his tongue against her lips.

"Olivia Pope," he said gently after pulling away, "you don't always have to think like a gladiator."

Whatever he said, she always knew a part of him, however small, was right. She didn't want to have to think like a gladiator all the time. In fact, she should've been the one to tell him that. But that's not the way it went. The president didn't have all that much to worry about in the grand scheme of things, because the president didn't run the country. People like Olivia did. And that was a heavy burden that he could never understand.

"But I do," she replied with a shaky breath. "You, with this office and Cyrus and Mellie... You don't have to be a gladiator. You have to be the president, whatever that means. I have to be Olivia Pope. I have to handle it. And I can only do that when I'm thinking about the client."

"But you can't," he said. "You just can't. _You_ get to live your life. We get to have a life."

She took a step backward, a flash of anger in her eyes.

"What I can't do is focus when you're around! Fitz, this is not how it works! You do _not_ get to call me 'sweet baby' when you pick up the phone at night with your wife two minutes away! You do _not_ get to seduce me whenever you feel like it! I am _not_ yours!"

He wrapped her up in his arms again, despite her struggles. It was always like this - push and pull, always a fight. Every time she tried to pull away he only held her tighter until she let her legs collapse beneath her and she fell into him. His strong arms held her up as she laid her head on his chest.

"Liv," he muttered. "Livvie, you _are_ mine. You're mine and I'm yours, and if you don't want me, I'll let you go. Say that you don't love me and I'll let you go. But if you love me... If you love me like I love you, then you'll know that I'll always be yours, even if you leave."

Silent tears streamed down her face and onto his shirt. 

"I don't want you," she whispered. "I don't want to want you anymore. It  _hurts._ It hurts too much." 

She began to sob, and he bent down and scooped her up in his arms, taking her over to the couch and placing her on his lap. He cradled her tight against him, pressing kisses to her forehead every now and then. With every sob that wracked her small frame, the more tears threatened to spill from his own eyes. He blinked them away. He had to be strong for her. He had to be the one who was strong for both of them now, after all the years of her relentless strength, of her being the rock weathered by the waves.  

"I know, Livvie," he murmured, voice beginning to crack, "I know."

He held her like that for just as long as she needed, suspended in time. They had always only had one minute, but now things were different. No interruptions, no more secrets. The whole White House, or everyone important anyway, already knew about how he cared for her. If they only knew how much. But the point of it all was that nobody dared interrupt them anymore. Not even Cyrus, who was too busy riddled with grief over the loss of his husband and the burden of raising a baby by himself. She got up off his lap, wiping the tears from her eyes and smoothing over her clothes.

"You don't have to go, Livvie," he said with a hopeful expression, but he already knew she was going to leave him there, damp with her tears.

She took a deep breath. "Yes, I do," she said. She ran a hand through her hair and walked to the door, pausing for a moment to compose herself.

"And Fitz?" She turned her head ever so slightly back at him.

"Yes, Olivia?"

"I'm free next weekend. I hear Vermont is nice this time of year."

The door closed behind her and despite himself, a ghost of a smile crossed his face.


End file.
